


A Woman of Sin

by DancingSnowflakes23



Series: A woman of sin [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Female Jon, Kinda, R Plus L Equals J | Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen are Jon Snow's Parents, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:14:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29030016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingSnowflakes23/pseuds/DancingSnowflakes23
Summary: Lyarra Snow, the natural daughter of Eddard Stark, had just wanted to do her sister a favour but had not expected that she would change her fate within the blink of a moment. For better or worse, she had drawn the King's attention on her...
Relationships: Jon Snow & Lyarra Snow (his twin sister), OC & Arya Stark, OC & Sansa Stark, OC/Renly Baratheon (non-romantic), OC/Robert Baratheon (one-sided), OC/Theon Greyjoy (minor flirting)
Series: A woman of sin [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129718
Comments: 7
Kudos: 45





	A Woman of Sin

Like every morning, Lyarra watched her brother's spar. She had always liked playing with them when she was younger but after she had bled, Lady Stark had forbidden it and Lord Stark had agreed to keep her away from the training yard.

It sets a bad example for Arya, the Lady Stark had insisted.

Lyarra had accepted it like she had accepted all previous laws her father had laid down for her but giving up her training with the sword had not pained her as much as giving up her harp play. She had loved that more than anything as it had been the only thing that had brought her and Sansa closer together.

Yet, for some, her father couldn’t hear listening to her harp play. He had claimed it reminded him of Rhaegar Targaryen, who had raped and killed her aunt Lyanna. Even her Jon had told her to leave the harp and attend to her needlework.

Sadly, Lyarra had as little talent for needlework as for swordplay. Weaving was more to her taste, but it could get boring at times.

Still, she had managed to produce her three or four tunics easily. One for Robb, one for Jon, one for Bran, and even one for little Rickon, who had torn it barely a week after she had gifted it to him.

It was a shame, but to be expected from her little brother.

Yet, as she was watching Jon, Robb, and Theon spar she couldn’t help but feel slightly melancholic. They were laughing about something Theon had said, though her brother was more frowning than a smile.

It was one of his usual half-smiles, a smile she might not be able to see for a long time if she couldn’t convince him to let go of his silly dream of joining the Night’s Watch.

Not that Lyarra herself had any hope of remaining in Winterfell. She was pledged to wed Cley Cerwyn, a boy younger than her, but heir to a lordship. He was a better match than she deserved and she knew Lord Cerwyn had hoped for Arya or Sansa instead, but her little sister was much too young and Sansa was meant to wed a Prince or so she had heard her little sister announce to everyone in Winterfell.

There was no confirmation, but there was a reason the King was coming to Winterfell.

Everyone knew it was not just a visit to an old friend.

"Shouldn’t you be at your needlework, Snow,“ she heard a snapping voice behind her. She knew who it was before she turned her head.

"Fuck off, Theon,“ she replied in a deadpan voice. She didn’t dislike Theon as much as Jon, but he could be a pest. "I do not care for your mockery.“

"I am not jesting,“ Theon replied and grinned. His eyes were fixed on her bosom. It was a bad habit of his. "I was just pointing out the truth.“

Lyarra snorted and clutched her chest. "And you should learn some manners. No woman will ever marry you if you do not learn to look into their faces.“

"You are a bastard,“ he reminded her of a predicament that was not her fault. "Do not put yourself on the same standing as a trueborn lady. And known Lord Stark, I will never marry anyone. I am a hostage, forgotten?“

Lyarra couldn’t help but notice the bitter tone in his voice. He liked to play the fool but at times one could see the man beneath his facade.

He was afraid of Eddard Stark.

"Leave my sister be,“ Jon demanded and pulled her aside. He always watched Theon with a hawk's gaze ever since she had bled. He mistrusted him to keep his cock in his breeches. "She has no time for your japes.“

"I am no baby,“ she chided him later as she accompanied him back to his chamber. He seemed in a strangely good mood, despite the King’s arrival. "I can take care of myself.“

"You are young and Theon,“ Jon said and swallowed hard. "I do not like him, but he is not bad looking. The other girls are fawning over him. I just want to protect you.“

"Do you think me that foolish?“ Lyarra asked and crossed her arms in front of her. "That I would throw away a perfectly fine match for Theon?“

Jon shrugged his shoulders. "Sometimes, I do not know what is going on in your head, sister. You are not the most outspoken person.“

"Neither are you,“ Lyarra replied and drew closer. She touched his shoulder and searched his face. "Yet, I know of your plans. You want to ask Uncle Benjen to join the Night’s Watch, don’t you?“

"It is the best place for me,“ Jon insisted. "As is for you to marry Cley. He is a good lad. He will treat you well.“

"And what of your dreams,“ Lyarra replied. "Have you forgotten…Once you wanted to a be a knight. I am no good judge of your martial abilities, but I can tell that you are not without talent. Surely, father might agree…,“ she began, but Jon cut her off.

"I am not going to beg father.“

"You don’t have to beg,“ she threw back without hesitation. "You simply have to ask.“

"Leave me,“ Jon asked of her then and sent her away.

She huffed in frustration, knowing very well that there was no use in speaking to him in such a state.

Instead, she went to seek out Sansa. Lyarra needed help with her dress and there was no better than Sansa when it came to such matters.

…

"It's done,“ Sansa said after she had done the necessary corrections. "But don’t tell mother. She would not want me to do such lowly work.“

Lyarra nodded her head. "I would still like to repay you.“

Sansa gave her a knowing smile. "I know a way you could repay me.“

Lyarra nodded her head. "Then, please tell me.“

"I have been practicing the harp,“ Sansa replied. „But you are much better than me. I would like to sing a song for the King and the Prince and I had hoped you might accompany me with the harp.“

The offer was tempting and Sansa had done her a great favor.

"Father will not like it.“

"Father will be delighted when the King is pleased.“

Lyarra sighed. "Very well.“

Sansa and she hid their practice for the following days, but eventually, Arya became suspicious and came to ask about her absence from their usual riding lessons.

"What is going?“ she asked. "Since when are you and Sansa so close?“

Lyarra knew she would not be able to hide it from Arya.

"Only if you promise not to tell anyone.“

"I promise.“

"Sansa wants to perform a song for the King. I am going to play the harp.“

Arya nodded her head in understanding. "And why are you hiding that? You play so well…much better than Sansa. Even Speta Mordane say so.“

"Because father doesn’t like it.“

"Father will not mind,“ Arya assured her and kissed her cheek. "And I won’t tell on you. Good luck.“

…

Three days later, the King arrived in all the splendor one might expect of a man of his standing, but Robert Baratheon himself proved a great disappointment.

He looked nothing like a King. He was fat, red-faced and out of place in the North. His wife was not much better. She was a great beauty, but haughty and unpleasant in her demeanor.

Her son Prince Joffrey was much the same. He was also not particularly good-looking. Sure, he had his mother’s golden hair and green eyes, but his wormy lips and perpetual sneer at his surroundings made him appear uglier than his uncle Lord Tyrion Lannister. Only his brother and sister seemed somewhat interested in their surroundings and of a more pleasant temper.

Sansa was of course delighted and Lyarra tried her best not to dim her mood, but that was harder than expected.

"Have you seen the Prince?“ Arya asked Lyarra after they had taken a quick bath in the hot springs. Sansa was already with Lady Catelyn who was taking particular care to see her dressed and groomed for the feast. "He looks like a girl.“

"Which one?“ Lyarra asked. "Wormy lips or the little fat one?“

"The older one. Sansa is already in love.“

Lyarra nodded her head and brushed Arya’s unruly hair. Then, they dressed.

"Good for her. I doubt she will have a choice in the match.“

Arya frowned. "Father would never force her.“

"The King is not a man you can easily refuse, Arya. I know you are only nine, but in a handful of years, they are going to marry you off as well. Do not think father will spare you that fate.“

Arya paled. It was the only time Lyarra had ever seen her afraid of something.

"Father would not force me.“

"He will,“ Lyarra replied. „Kindly, but he will see you wed. That’s our fate. And now come along. You need to look proper for tonight.“

Arya did not speak with her the rest of the way. She was clearly upset, but with the King’s arrival, all their lives would change.

Arya, Sansa, and Bran would leave for King’s Landing. Jon, the fool, would throw away his future for life at the Wall, Lyarra would be wed soon enough and Lady Stark would be pleased to see them gone.

Lyarra had never held it against the Lady for dislike her presence here, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t angry with her father.

Why couldn’t he keep his cock in his breeches? Why did he have to steal them away from their mother and doom her to a sad and lonely death?

Truth be told, their father had never confirmed their mother’s identity, but she had heard the sad tale of Lady Ashara Dayne, who had thrown herself from the Palestone Tower after their father had taken them away from her.

Men were all the same, even those who were honorable like their father. They did as they pleased, without any care for the women they claimed to love.

 _Self-pity does not serve you, Lyarra_ , she reminded herself and went prepare for the feast. Like Jon, she was not seated with her family, but with the other ladies. It was a jolly enough company, but she could not help but feel anxious about her upcoming performance.

The time passed all too slowly, but her great moment came right after the last course had been served.

Sansa, who had been seated beside the King, had been working her magic with the Queen, who seemed quite amused by Sansa’s proposal.

Lord Stark and Lady Stark were of course oblivious to their plans.

And the King seemed delighted as well. He was laughing and demanded silence from the crowd.

Sansa’s smile was as bright as a star when she called upon Lyarra, who had tried her best to make her dress look like new. She had also gathered some winter flowers and placed them into her hair. They fit her grey dress better than any of Sansa’s hairnets or jewels.

Yet, Sansa’s harp more precious possession. Lyarra had always envied her for the harp as she had been forced to give up hers.

He had expected to feel afraid in the presence of this large audience, but it was so easy to forget about them when her fingers touched the harp.

It always felt as if a spell was cast upon her in such moments. The song carried her away like to a different world.

Only when she returned to the present did she become aware that the King was staring at her as if she was some sort of otherwordly appearance.

The crowd was pleased and clapped approvingly, but Lord Stark looked as if he was about to collapse on the ground. Lady Stark didn’t seem angry, but she was looking at her husband with a fearful expression.

Even the Queen was glaring at Lyarra, a woman she had never spoken to in her entire life.

It was only when the King called everyone to silence that her heartbeat calmed a little.

"I thank you for your beautiful performance,“ the King thanked Sansa, but his gaze was still fixed on Lyarra. „And you my Lady…?“

"Lady Lyarra…I am Lord Stark’s natural daughter.“

"Lyarra…“ the King repeated. "You look so much like her.“

Lyarra didn’t know what to make of the King’s words.

"Who, your grace?“

"Lyanna.“

Lyarra knew she should have taken it as a compliment, but she was felt uncomfortable in the king’s presence. There was something hungry in his gaze. Something dangerous.

Still, she could not say so openly.

"I thank you, your grace. That is most kind of you to say.“

The King laughed and he patted her hand. "On the contrary, you and your sister were kind by honoring with your talent. I think that deserves a favor!“

"Robert,“ Lyarra heard her father’s voice beside her. He was still as pale as before, but there was more to his eyes. Lyarra saw fear. Utter fear. "I don’t think that is necessary.“

"And why not?“ Robert asked and grinned at Lyarra. "The girl might be a bastard, but a fine one. She did well. She deserves a reward. Now tell me, my lady. Is there anything you want? “

Lyarra was baffled by the question.

Never once in her life had anyone asked her what she wanted.

"Your grace…,“ she began, but the King cut her off.

"Tell me…What do you want? Do not make me look like a fool, my lady.“

Lyarra blushed, but an idea came soon enough.

The words left her words easily. "What I want is not for me, your grace. You see…my brother always wanted to be a knight, but he is just a bastard without any lands…Would it be possible for Jon to be a knight?“

Lyarra couldn’t describe it, but her father looked at her with sheer panic.

"Robert,“ he said, but the King wanted to hear none of it. "Robert!“

"Such a selfless lady,“ the King said in awe and patted her hand once more. It made her uncomfortable, but she could not refuse the King. "And a demand that I will gladly fulfill.“

Not long after, Jon was called forward to receive the King’s favor.

He was as tense as a bowstring, but when the King named Jon his brother’s squire it was greeted with much approval.

Only their father seemed upset.

And his sharp rebuke that night wasn’t any more pleasant.

"How could you do that without my approval?“ Lord Stark asked her sternly. Sansa was also there. "Since when have you become so disobedient.“

"But father…,“ Sansa protested. "It was my idea.“

"Yet, Lyarra is older than you,“ Lord Stark insisted. "She should be the responsible one.“

"Ned,“ Lady Stark interrupted. "I cannot say that I agree with their actions, but the King was pleased enough. I see no reason to be so upset.“

It was only then, that Lord Stark returned to his old self. It was as if he had been hit by a sudden realization.

"Forgive me,“ Lord Stark said after Lady Stark and Sansa had left. "But I made a promise to protect you and what you did today endangered that promise.“

Lyarra was confused. Her father was very pale and afraid. She had never seen him like this. All anger she had held for him was gone within the blink of a moment.

"Does this have to do with my mother?“

Her father’s eyes widened in shock.

"Your mother…One day we will speak about your mother, child. Now go back to bed.“

Lyanna left with more questions and could barely sleep that night. Instead, she dreamed of becoming a wolf and prowling through the snow.

In the morning, she woke to the sorrowful howls of a wolf.

Bran had fallen from the Broken Tower.

…

"Will he recover?“ Lyarra asked Jon after she had gone to him to speak about last night. "Do you know anything?“

Jon shrugged his shoulders and continued to brush his horse’s back. „I wasn’t allowed to see him. Uncle Benjen told me that he is still alive. I cannot say what will happen now.“

Lyarra felt like crying, but now was no time for tears.

"I heard the King wants to leave soon. Will you go with him?“

Jon frowned. "I did not want you to do this for me.“

"I never planned it,“ Lyarra assured him and took his hand, searching his dark eyes. "And isn’t that what you always wanted? And if you really want to join the Night’s Watch you can still do that once you are a little older.“

Finally, a hint of a smile showed on Jon’s lips. "You got me there, sister.“

Lyarra felt such a relief that she threw her arms around Jon and never wanted to let go.

"I am going to miss you.“

Jon returned the embrace and rubbed his cheek against hers. "And I am going to miss you. Don’t make Cley’s life too hard for him.“

"I won’t,“ she promised and bit her tears away. "I won’t.“

On the next day, Bran had still not woken, but it seemed the King was eager to leave. Lyarra could see the conflict in her father’s demeanor, but there was no other choice. He had to leave soon.

In the meantime, Lyarra tried to keep Arya and Rickon busy, but that easier said than done. Arya was anxious about Bran and Rickon felt that something was going on that he didn’t understand. More than once, he demanded Bran’s presence and threw a tantrum when he was not given what he wanted.

Once, Lyarra was even called upon to give Princess Myrcella some lessons with the harp, but on the next day, the Queen was so upset about her presence that she was not even allowed close to the Princess on the next day.

_A bastard has no place in the company of a Princess._

Lyarra accepted the humiliation like everything, but on the night before the King’s departure, everything changed within the blink of a moment.

For the King did not only announce Sansa’s betrothal to his son King Joffrey but also Lyarra’s legitimization and marriage to his brother Renly.

…


End file.
